


After the Halls

by ceruleanshark



Series: Dark Lords of Arda [10]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Happily married dark lords with zero added angst, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 07:08:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13565424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceruleanshark/pseuds/ceruleanshark
Summary: Melkor returns to Utumno after being imprisoned by Mandos.





	After the Halls

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anon request I got on Tumblr, which gave me an excuse to write fluffy Angbang with zero plot. Anon, whomstever you are, I hope you like this!

“Will that be all?” The balrog, cloaked temporarily in a fair form, straightened the stack of papers on the desk before him. Mairon thought for a moment, considering the plans and schematics that needed to be completed. He drummed his ink-stained fingers on the wooden surface, deep in thought, and then nodded. The rest of the tactics could wait for the next council.

He squared his shoulders, sitting tall in his carven chair. “You're dismissed. Make sure everything is in order for training tomorrow. Those dragons need to be battle ready as soon as possible.” 

“Understood, lieutenant.” He stood, bowed low, and walked out of the office. Mairon waited until his footsteps had faded into the distance before sighing deeply and setting the papers aside. The schematics were important but could wait.

Mairon pushed his chair back with a grinding noise that made him grit his teeth in annoyance. He stretched briefly before meandering over to the iron door at the back of the room.

His touch unlocked the door, letting him climb the small staircase behind it. At the top was an elaborate archway, and beyond were the quarters Mairon had once shared with his master.

With a simple thought, Mairon started a small blaze in the fireplace, illuminating the room with a dull glow. He reached up to slide the golden pin from his hair, letting the red curls cascade around his shoulders. Setting the sharp pin carefully down on a side table, he undid his cloak and hung it in the usual place by the archway.

Despite everything being in order as usual, something was still missing. The room felt cold and empty without the familiar presence of Mairon's master.

Ever since Melkor had been sent to the Halls, Mairon had ruled over Utumno alone. He took his master’s place in controlling the fortress. Dragons, orcs, balrogs, prisoners; all lived and died by his command. Never had he possessed so much power.

Mairon was miserable. 

Even with the aid of Gothmog and Thuringwethil, he was worked past the point of exhaustion on a daily basis. His role as the sole lord of Utumno was a burden beyond what Mairon had ever imagined. 

Further worsening the situation was the absence of the Vala Mairon loved. The nights spent alone instead of in Melkor's arms were wearing heavily on him. Some days he desired only to rest his head on Melkor's chest and feel his lord’s hands in his hair while Melkor whispered words of praise. 

Mairon sighed deeply and looked over at the door that led into a side chamber, wondering if a bath would take his mind off Melkor. He was making himself sick with his constant pining, and he knew it, yet he could not stop save for when he was working.

Deciding against bathing, Mairon kicked off his boots and collapsed back on the bed, hair fanning out over the pillows. He stared up at the ceiling, hands folded on his chest, and attempted to relax enough to sleep.

He had barely managed to get comfortable when something tugged at his fea. 

Mairon opened his eyes, frowning. The sensation was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. He reached out for it again and felt it strengthen and approach fast. Mairon barely had time to concentrate on the feeling before he heard something entirely unexpected, but long anticipated.

“Mairon?” The voice was deep, echoing richly through the stone-pillared chamber. The Maia sat up rapidly. Fire leapt across his crimson hair, an outward manifestation of his alarm.

A tall form appeared out of the darkness, materializing out of thin air. His skin was dead pale in the dim firelight, though his cloak and hair were dark. And though it had been far too long since Mairon had last seen his face or looked into the black eyes, he was immediately recognizable.

“My lord?” Mairon gasped, clumsily scrambling out of bed to drop to his knees. He bowed his head, the fire flickering out. Melkor approached him slowly, boots clicking on the stone floor. He was far taller than Mairon remembered, looming easily over the fire Maia.

Melkor's chuckle sent a shiver running down Mairon's spine. “I have returned from the Halls, my brother was foolish enough to believe that I had repented. I was able to persuade them to let me leave.”

One large hand rested gently atop Mairon's head, stroking his hair. He stared intently at the floor, unsure of how to compose himself for his lord. Despite his confusion, the simple feeling of his master's touch made warmth rise in Mairon's chest.

“You may rise.” Melkor said, hand leaving his hair. His cloak swept over the stones, a wave of black fabric against the gray rock.

Mairon stood and hesitantly met his eyes, hands clasped behind his back. He was painfully aware of how informally he was dressed, with his plain black robe and unstyled hair.

“I must say, I am impressed.” Melkor remarked, walking a meandering circuit around the room. He trailed his fingers over the carvings on the walls, the elaborate furniture, and the silk curtains hanging around the bed.

“You have kept the fortress in good order. I have already visited some of the rest, formless and hidden in shadow.” Melkor tapped at the metal clasp of his hooded cloak and adjusted the cowl, dark hair sweeping around his broad shoulders. Casting a quick glance at Mairon, he tilted his head. “I appreciate your work, precious.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Mairon kept his tone and expression neutral. He played with the hem of his robe nervously, eyes downcast. Long he had waited for their reunion, but now that it had come he wasn't sure what to say or do. 

Deciding that it was best to be forthright with him, Mairon folded his hands neatly and met that unfathomable gaze. The sheer power and mystery of Melkor never failed to make him shiver.

“I confess, I am not sure what to say.” Mairon admitted, refusing to let himself waver. A brief look of surprise crossed Melkor's face, then he smiled.

“You are not sure? Come here.” His smile widened slightly as he spoke, an unidentifiable emotion gleaming in his eyes. Mairon obeyed, body instinctively heeding the command of the mightiest Vala. He paused right in front of Melkor, close enough to feel the faint chill radiating from his towering form. Mairon's head barely reached his shoulder.

“There is no need for words, little flame. Not when I am seeing you once more after so long. And certainly not when I can reach out and take you into my arms.” As he finished speaking, Melkor stepped closer and opened his arms. 

Mairon went to him, burying his face in Melkor's chest like it was the most natural thing in the world. His master embraced him tightly, one hand rubbing circles on Mairon's back and the other tangled in his hair.

Almost shyly, Mairon's fingers curled into the soft fabric of Melkor's travelling cloak. He clung to his master like they could be torn apart at any moment. He felt his body heat up, flames rippling under the surface of his skin as he felt Melkor's reassuring presence. 

“I have missed you more than I can say.” Mairon confessed, face still buried in his shoulder. “I haven't slept on your side of our bed, or moved your things. I've been so alone but no one else makes me feel the way you do. I haven't bothered with taking another lover.”

“And I missed you, precious. I have dreamt of this day for so long.” Melkor rippled with dark fire as he spoke, his aura entwining almost lovingly with Mairon's.

Melkor rolled him onto the bed and laid beside him at last, cradling him close. They faced each other, Mairon unable to keep the smile off his face. “I'm glad you came back to me.”

“I will always return to you.” A gentle kiss was pressed to Mairon's forehead. The Maia leaned over to kiss him softly, lips meeting over and over in a myriad of short kisses. 

Mairon felt hazy, like he was dreaming, despite the reality of being in Melkor's arms and kissing his master once more. He relaxed against Melkor as they finally broke apart, exchanging a fond gaze with him before lying down and closing his eyes.

“Sleep, little flame. You have done well in my absence.” Melkor whispered, stroking Mairon's hair. Mairon felt safe, resting there with his master at last.

Heedless of the dangers their future would hold and the fast-approaching war, the lords of Utumno rested together, spirits gleaming softly through the gloom of their fortress.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments give me life <3


End file.
